One More Reason to Believe in Magic

FIREFLIES

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Reasons I Believe in Magic

When I was researching for and writing my dissertation several years ago, I remember reading quite a lot about how in England Medievals and Elizabethians thought about magic differently. Or anyway, some theorized that they did. I'm not sure how hard and fast the distinction is. I do know that Medieval Europeans thought about magic and what constitutes magic (and what constitutes science) differently than most of us might. For example, we might think of the Philosopher's Stone, which supposedly can turn any base metal into gold and can also bestow eternal life, as something supernatural, or just a silly idea. To medievals, it was simply science. And it occurs to me that how we define magic or miracle is a culturally defined or even a personally proscribed kind of thing. If I remember correctly C.S. Lewis said that miracles are things that could and maybe would occur naturally but happen at a miraculous speed. Or something to that effect. I'm fascinated, for some reason, by the etymology of the word influenza. Apparently, medievals believed that any sickness that couldn't be explained by causal, natural events was simply a result of the planetary influences; thus we have influenza. Your astrology causes the flu. And yet, if we could speak to medieval peasants or even more learned members of medieval society and explain that really the flu is caused by a virus, which is this living organism that somehow infects the body, would this really sound any more logical or reasonable? I mean, the medieval might ask to see such a virus, and of course, they are not visible to the naked eye. Is the explanation that we accept, that a virus causes the flu, really any less supernatural or magical than attributing sickness to the planetary influences or even to some spiritual presence. In this spirit, then, I offer thirteen reasons that I believe in magic.

1. Humans are able to look at symbols, dashes of ink really, written across a page and decipher some sort of meaning that is akin to spoken language. Reading is magical.

2. If reading is magical, writing is even more magical. Not only can we interpret symbols, often in complex arrangements, but we can produce them and communicate our thoughts, feelings, and dreams. Writing is another kind of magic. And the pen, as we all know, is indeed mightier than the sword.

3. I suppose that although speech is more natural to humans than reading and writing, speech is magical in its own right. We make sounds with our bodies. And these sounds serve to communicate. But they do more than simply communicate. Words have power.

4. Seeds grow into plants. This is a kind of magic, for what human could have created such workings? We plant tiny seeds, sometimes they look like rocks. Mostly, they certainly don't look alive. And yet, sun and rain and air and earth are all they seem to need. And life appears. And it isn't, of course, some sort of random spontaneous life. But seeds become plants, and plants grow. Every day, there's something new to see in my yard. This, indeed, is magic, more magical than any purported supernatural event.

5. The world is full of colors. Color seem to me to be particularly magical. And not only do we perceive color, but we respond to it on nonconscious and emotional levels. Color means; color moves us.

6. We love and are loved in return. What could be more magical than the mystery yet the nearly universal experience of love, especially sacrificial love.

7. As humans, we are conscious of our mortality. We remember the past, and we understand that there is to be a future. Some argue that this is an important factor than separates us from animals. This also seems to be the curse of humans--it's difficult to live in the present and to fully appreciate the present when we are hung up on the past or worried about the future. And yet, to have this range, this spectrum of experience seem to me to be magic.

8. Our necessities can become pleasures; this is magic. Of course we need to eat. But eating is, for many of us, more than just fulfilling a basic need. We can enjoy it, and we do enjoy it.

9. We have the ability and sometimes the imperative to create. Again, some would argue that creativity, the drive to produce art, is what separates humans from animals. We write songs; we paint; we present our food in a way that is pleasing to the eye; we experiment with our food and our wardrobes and how we speak and how we think. We try new ways of doing things, and even if we return to the old ways, we are sometimes better for having tried something new. This ability to create, to produce a painting or a song that is not just interesting but moving, is truly magic, more so than anything I've read about in folk tales or in Arthuriana. Merlin is no more a magician than you and I. Or maybe it's better to say that you and I are just as much magicians, mages as Merlin.

10. Maybe this is just another form of love, but as humans we have the need to feel connected to something outside ourselves. We connect to other people, to social causes, to God. John Donne reminds us that no man is an island. What he doesn't say is that we are not islands, in part, because we need to feel connected to something other than ourselves.

11. We experience loss and pain, but we heal. And most importantly we grow. Humans are not emotionally or intellectually or spiritually stagnant, or not for very long. We hurt, and we don't like hurting, but we grow. Growth and beauty and strength can come from pain. And people do have the ability to change. This is even more magical than an oak growing from a tiny acorn.

Ok, so that was only 11. I really thought I could do a full 13. Still, a list of 11 reasons is better than no list at all. And maybe I can edit this post later. I do believe in magic. All these things, part of our everyday, natural life seem just as magic as anything we might imagine or read about. I think that because so many of these are mundane we tend to take them for granted, and yet, who would we be with out love and communication and each other?

Oh, OK, it's a couple hours later, and I just thought of two more magical things.

12. Risotto is, indeed, magical. There is, for me, something really fulfilling and satisfying and, yes, magic about making risotto. I mean, it's not hard but it always feels like adding the liquid a bit at a time and stirring and stirring until the whole starchy thing has this almost creamy texture is fascinating and akin to magic. How can it be that rice with a little olive oil and a little onion and a little white wine and a lot of broth can become something so luxe and rich and decadent? Because that's always my experience of even a very simple at-home risotto.

13. Silly, impulsive, fearless crafting is magic. I know that this last item might not make sense to many others, and certainly it's somehow related to creativity. But I love impulsive, inexpensive crafts. I love taking something plain and creating something unique that reflects something about me. See for example, the tee shirts below. I love crocheting scarves and dying slips from goodwill and refashioning things that I've not worn in ages and gluing beads and glitter to everything and sewing and cutting up pretty paper. And I love not worrying about how it'll turn out but simply enjoying the process of creating. I love getting lost in the activity. I love feeling smart and sassy and creative. I love, even, pairing funky argyle socks with a drab skirt and sweater, so that I feel like I've created even a look that's "me." I know that all of this may not sound magic to anyone else. But it is. What could be more magic than using nothing but, say, scissors and glue and pretty paper to make a lovely card?

And so there you have it: some of the reasons that I don't just believe in magic but embrace it.

Wiki Idea

This just occurred to me. What we really, really need, seriously, is a wiki devoted to literary criticism. How helpful would that be? Oh and Thursday Next can define Reader Response Theory much better than I ever could. But more on that later.

Communication and Miscommunication

On Sunday morning, I woke up to a message on my answering machine. It sounded something like this: "Hi Drennan. . .wah wah wah [insert the noises the adults on the Peanuts make]. . .this is wah wah. . .wah wah wah wah wah would love to talk to you wah wah wah." And that was all I could make out. The caller sounded like a female voice. And she didn't leave a number. Now clearly, I have no idea who this was. And I think that the message was possibly left in the wee hours, although it's difficult to say for sure--the power had gone out the night before, and I know that my time stamp thingy was off. So. . .if you left a message on my landline, and I never called back, please call again. It's best to call my cell number if you have it. I feel bad and a little concerned about the whole thing.

Also, this just in. Recently, I have had several people mention things like they wish I had a myspace or that they requested me as a myspace friend and that I ignored. So I've decided that, in the interest of communication, I will start being more active with the old myspace account.

"Pull This Thread As I Walk Away:" Altered Tees and Why They Don't Unravel

Ok, let me say, first, that I think this is a really unflattering picture of me. However, it shows the lace up back of my latest altered tee, which I think is kinda fun. And here's an explanation for C. about why I think this sort of thing can be done without sewing, why it shouldn't unravel. Some of you know that I actually like to sew and while I'm not a brilliant seamstress, I'm not bad. However, sometimes a no-sew project is kinda fun. This particular tee is done by cutting off lengths from the bottom of the tee, poking holes along the scoop back and lacing the lengths from the bottom across. This was a scoop back to begin with, but a regular tee could be cut into this shape. I've borrowed and modified ideas from the book Generation T--108 Ways to Transform a T-Shirt, which is kinda fun and has good ideas. I've left the bottom, where I've cut off a strip unfinished, and the holes I've punched with a craft knife are unfinished too. The kind of knit that the tee is should not unravel--I think it's called a jersey knit. A woven fabric wouldn't work this way and would have to be finished in some way, usually with a hem. I think that the nature of the knit is that the ends and even the little holes just stay the way they are. If you get a small hole in a tee or a polo shirt, it's rather unattractive, possibly, but it doesn't tend to get any bigger. The edge will just kinda curl up a bit, but it works fine. I do think it would look good if the little holes that the band is laced through were finished either with a grommet or an eyelet thingy. But I don't have an eyelet / grommet setter that will work on fabric. But it seems like that would be a fun detail if one wanted a more finished look and wanted to spend a bit more time. It's certainly not a polished look, but it works for casual. This is a purchased tee, and one great thing about it is that it says "Jet Setter" across the front, although you can't see it in this pic. But I just think that's funny. Anyway, I like the idea of wearing clothing that somehow reflects my creativity and all that, so this sort of thing appeals to me, even if it is somewhat trashy and not terribly age appropriate.

This shirt I bought for 3.99. Mostly, I bought it for the color. Again, with nothing but the magic scissors and a craft knife, it becomes something much more interesting. It's much cuter on, I have to say.

More Altered Clothing

Here, a boring purple tee finds new life with the addition of a little ribbon. I like this because the cut up tee is kinda punk, but the green and purple make it girly.

Altered Tees

Ok, so here's my new thing. Here you see a boring black tee. But with my magic scissors, and a few embellishments, it becomes something punky and much more fun. I know that the pic isn't that great, but you get the idea.

More Insomnia

I wonder if blogging about insomnia is somehow generating more insomnia in the world. But last night was another night plagued by the specter of insomnia. Earlier in the day, I went to the pharmacy and bought some sort of homeopathic thing that is supposed to help with sleep. I followed the directions carefully, yet it didn't seem to help at all. Lately, I seem to be able to get to sleep. But I only sleep for like 45 minutes and then am wide awake for hours. Last night, I tried all my old tricks: counting backwards from 300, listening to my iPod, deep breathing. None of it seemed to help. I kept thinking about how I was in the house all alone and how if there were an intruder I probably wouldn't realize it and how if I were to scream no one would hear. I do realize that obsessing about this stuff isn't rational and certainly isn't helpful. But there it was. Yesterday, I also had my annual visit to the gynecologist--woo hoo! That "woo hoo" was sarcasm, by the way. Anyway, sitting in the waiting room felt so weird yesterday, and last night in bed, it was like I kept flashing back to the whole waiting room scene. I felt like I was surrounded by these hugely preganant women; they looked ready to pop. And there they were with men I assume were the fathers of their children. OK, I know this is a terrible thing to think, but they all just looked like they wouldn't be good parents. I realize that, among other things, that's totally classist of me, but I kept thinking, "Why should they get to have a baby?" I feel awful for thinking these things. Then there were several teenagers in the waiting room, waiting to be tested for STIs and to get birth control, no doubt. I've been to the gyno a lot over the past year, and it seems like every time, there's some sort of drama with a 15 or 16 year old girl who either forgot her parents' insurance card or is being chewed out because she missed her last five appointments or whatever. And something about it just freaks me out. I always somehow feel like the pregnant women are being given the VIP treatment and the teenagers are getting lots of attention and I'm persona non grata, as they say. Again, I realize that most of this is in my imagination, but that perception is still there. And I kept thinking and thinking about it all in bed last night. And now I'm to the point in this whole cycle of insomnia where I'm starting to dread going to bed each night. Here it is, only 10:00am, and I'm already worried about going to bed. It's all just maddening!

Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next Series

Last week, I went to the local library, which is really quite a fine library for a small community. While there, I discovered the latest novel in Fforde's Thursday Next series. So I decided that before I read the fifth and most recent novel in the series, I'd reread the first four. So now, I'm on The Well of Lost Plots. And I'm trying to put my finger on what it is that makes this series so entertaining. First, I like that one gets the feeling that Fforde really loves literature but doesn't take it or himself too seriously. There's something wonderful and fun and funny about his play with language and his use of parody. For example, in the fourth in the series, Something Rotten, Hamlet appears as a character who's been transported from Shakespeare's play to Thursday's England, this crazy, alternate England where everyone is all into literature. Anyway, Hamlet is having this identity crisis, which seems somehow apt. And he goes out and rents all these videos with different film adaptations of Hamlet. He can't decide if he wants to be more like Sir Laurence Olivier's Hamlet or Mel Gibson's. And it goes on and on--he analyzes the merits of each, asks others for their opinions. And there's something really funny and absurd but also nearly true, somehow, in all this. And it's indicative of what Fforde does throughout the series. It's all really wonderful. I also recommend Fforde's Nursery Crimes series. It's good light reading. It's funny and clever and not predictable. Fforde is all-round entertainment for English majors.

Insomnia

So last night was not good. I got in bed around 11:00, read until 11:30 or so, turned the lights out, slept for maybe 45 minutes, then was wide awake until nearly 3:30. This morning, I slept until 9:30ish. And now, 45 minutes later, I feel like crap, absolute crap. I feel like I've been out with the dry cows, as some might say. And it drives me crazy when I can't sleep. Seriously, if there is a purgatory, and if it isn't LAX, then it must be insomnia. Truly. So I watched TV--there's not much good on at 2:00am--and read for a while. Mostly, I worried about what the next day would be like and how late I could afford to sleep in without lowering the chances for the next night's sleep. I've had issues from sleep for as long as I can remember, certainly since I was 6. And some nights I sleep fine, but others it's just so miserable. And I never quite know what to do. It all produces anxiety. I've read somewhere that there's a theory that insomnia is about the fear of not being able to fall asleep; for me, fear, or more properly anxiety, feeds it, that's for sure. Because you sit there all anxious about what's going to happen if you don't get enough sleep and anxious about what you should do to promote sleep, and I certainly am not going to drink warm milk--ick! But last night, at about 2:30 I spent a lot of time debating whether or not to get up and take a bath. I guess that I'm thankful that I'm not disturbing anyone else, except for maybe Polly. But it was a truly miserable night.

After a hiatus, I'm back, back to the blogosphere. I wish I had fun, exciting stuff to report, but I don't. Things have been chugging along in a mostly normal, quiet fashion. I was scheduled to start teaching summer school yesterday, but my courses were canceled due to low enrollment. I do have to say that I'm disappointed. I have decided to make use of all the extra time to get some reading and writing done, which is good I suppose. I've also had the time and inclination to practice yoga more than I normally might. I don't think yoga is some miracle cure, but I know that for me, it makes a difference in a number of areas of my life. Lately, I'm using Cyndi Lee's OM Yoga in a Box. She has several books out that are also quite helpful. She does a good job of explaining the postures. Also I'd totally recommend yin yoga to anyone who's looking to really relax and chill out; I've been using the CD and cards that come with Biff Mithoefer's The Yin Yoga Kit . So there, I suppose, are my yoga recommendations. I have other CDs and DVDs that I use also, but these two are the ones I've been using most lately.

I have to say that I'm really enjoying the time off work. In the past, I've always had trouble with more than about a week off work--I tend to get anxious and depressed. But for the past couple of weeks, I've been enjoying sleeping in and reading and watching movies and simply having time to relax. I am so relieved that I seem to be able to handle it.

Anyway, that's an update on me--nothing to exciting or even interesting, I'm afraid. What was it that Tolkien said? Something about how the days that are most pleasant to live are not very interesting to tell about. So that clearly wasn't verbatim, but you get the idea.

Fenway

Here's a new pic of my handsome, handsome baby boy. He's pleased that the Red Sox are in first place in their division; the Yankees are in last. And I feel the same way. You see, it's not so much that I like the Red Sox; it's more that I just HATE the Yankees.

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Books I've Never Read But Think I Should Read and Books I've Started But Never Finished But Think I Should Finish

This Thursday Thirteen is in honor of my having finished Bleak House. I decided to read it for many reasons, one of which is that it seems like something someone should read at least once in her life. Oddly, I never expected to actually enjoy it. But I did. Once I got into it, it was interesting and really quite readable. And I always thought I didn't like Dickens! Anyway, here's a list of books that I've either never read and think I should or books that I've started and never finished but think I should. I'm rather embarrassed to admit some of these!

1. Dante: The Divine Comedy. OK, I've started Dante, and I've read most of the Hell section of the poem. And I feel like I know what I need to know, in terms of cultural literacy, about the Divine Comedy--who Beatrice is, for example. But I'm a little embarrassed to have never read all of it. My brother tells me there's an edition with interesting illustrations, maybe by Durer or someone like that, that I should pick up.

2. Virginia Wolf: The Waves. This is one that I really want to read but somehow never get to. In part, I keep thinking, "Oh, I'll reread Dalloway and To the Lighthouse first and then read the Waves." But it never actually happens.

3. Dostoevsky: Crime and Punishment. This is another that I actually want to read. I guess that I've just had other reading priorities, you know?

4. Tolstoy: War and Peace. While we're on the subject of Russian writers, I thought I should fess up to never having read War and Peace. I do remember the Happy New Year Charlie Brown special in which he's assigned War and Peace.

5. The Mabinogion. Again, a volume that I've started several times but never finished. FIY, it's a collection of Welsh myth and folk tales.

6. Joseph Campbell: The Masks of God. So I think Campbell is interesting. And I've read The Hero With a Thousand Faces. And I've read part of the Masks of God. But I've never finished it.

7. Frazer: The Golden Bough. Again, this seems like something I should know more about.

8. Sontag: "Notes on 'Camp.'" This is another one of those that I actually want to read but never quite get to. And yes, I realize it's an essay in a list of books. But it seems to fit.

9. Solzhenitsyn. Ah yes, another Russian. I've started The Gulag Archipelago but never finished. Ditto The Oak and the Calf. But I actually enjoyed them and can't think why I put them down!

10. Thackeray. Again, anything by Thackeray would be an improvement. I'm certainly interested in Vanity Fair. Hey, I've seen the BBC adaptation, does that count?

11. Neil Gaiman: The Sandman Series. This is a graphic novel, for those who don't know. Again, something I started but never finished.

12. Simone de Beauvoir: The Second Sex. Again, I've read some, maybe the first 75 pages, and just didn't feel inspired to finish. Maybe it's because those first 75 pages basically depressed me.

13. Melville: Moby Dick. This is maybe my biggest shame as someone with an advanced degree in literature. I've started Moby Dick a couple of times. And again, I know what I'm supposed to know about it, i.e. "Call me Ishmael." But I've never finished the thing. It's like my own personal whale to conquer. Or maybe it's my personal "El Guapo." Did anyone get that reference?

It seems like The Old Man and the Sea deserves a sort of honorary place in the list. It's a book that I've read several times but wish I'd never read. I can never put my finger on why, but I just hate it.

C.S. Lewis once said that if after the first fifty pages he just isn't enjoying a book, he doesn't finish. And maybe that's a good policy. Maybe life is too short to read books we think we should read but don't bring pleasure. Or maybe I can accept that it's OK to simply not enjoy something that everyone else considers important literature.

Ian Rankin: Knots and Crosses

Ok, so earlier today I finished Ian Rankin's Knots and Crosses. It is the first of his Inspector Rebus novels, set in Scotland. And it was a good read. It was reasonably well written, and the mystery unfolded in an interesting way. But what I think I liked best about it was that while it was a murder mystery, it was really a psychological novel about Rebus. And that's what really appeals to me in this genre anyway; I like mysteries that have interesting, complex, conflicted detective characters. And maybe that's why I like House too. But Rebus is this intelligent, flawed, thoughtful, damaged person, as are so many of us. And he talks about how he's a Christian, but he doesn't really live in the way that he thinks he should. And he prays, but when he's really angry with God, he doesn't want to pray. But when things are tense, he prays anyway. And it strikes me that there's something so universal about it all. I mean, we have standards or values or beliefs, whether we are Christians or not, and we think we should live according to these, and maybe we should. But we find, like Sir Gawain, that sometimes our values come into conflict. And we find that some days we just can't do it. I would offer that those are the days when we really should pray. But life just isn't simple. For Miss Marple, life is simple, right? I mean, all the evil in the world is just like the petty evil in St. Mary Mead. And there's some truth to that. Humans are humans regardless of geography, and they perpetrate the same evils, at least to some degree. But evil, murder, mysteries never end simply and cleanly, with all the loose ends tied up, as they seem to for Miss Marple. Life is messy. And even when we solve the mystery, or right the wrong, or stand up for what we believe in, things are still difficult. Even when Rebus reaches the end of the novel, he's so scarred that life is going to be difficult and painful and even full of loss, no matter that another murderer has been captured. This, to my way of thinking, is like life. And this is the kind of mystery that I like: one with a flawed detective who tries to be moral as best he can, but one who still endures the pains along with the joys of life, after the bad guy is put behind bars. This is the life that we all live.

The Crave Reader

OK, you seriously have to check this out. It's kinda amazing: http://automobiles.honda.com/cr-v/crave/

On Blogging

Ok, so I wish that I had brilliant academic stuff to blog about. Or that I had wonderful intellectual stuff to say. Or that I could blog about politics or literature or theology or something that would indicate that I do have an actual brain in my head and that I'm not completely superficial and self-absorbed. And the truth is that I do think about things (you know, smart stuff, ideas, books, whatever) besides crafts and food and depression. But those more serious things don't quite seem to make their way into this blog. So what I'm trying to get at is this--maybe if I weren't afraid, I'd blog about those kinds of things and really put my ideas and convictions out there. I suppose it's easier to hide behind interests connected to the material world.

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Things I'd Do If I Weren't Afraid

Ok, so I've decided that when I don't have some brilliant concept for the Thursday Thirteen, I'd move through Segalove and Velick's List Your Self. I can't remember how I stumbled onto this gem. But here's the idea: one will gain insight of some sort by listing this and that about herself. That was probably obvious. Oh, well. So here we go.

Thirteen Things I'd Do If I Weren't Afraid

1. I'd write a long, long post for all the world to see that describes the evils of my former husband. I don't know why I feel the urge to do this. And I can't imagine that it would be productive on any level. But there it is.

2. Make new friends.

3. Telephone friends I've allowed to fall by the wayside.

4. Become a bone marrow doner.

5. Take art classes at the college.

6. Organize the mess in my basement.

7. Write a novel.

8. Write poetry.

9. Shave my head.

10. E-mail Dan Abrams to say that I think he's pretty fly for a white guy.

11. Take math classes at the college.

12. Admit that I really enjoy reading and watching materials intended for "tweens."

13. Go to church regularly.

Now that I've written these all out, it seems like I've maybe done this topic for a "thirteen" before. Ah well. I think it's good to ask ourselves what we'd do, really do, if we weren't afraid. And OK, I know that some of these are pretty trivial. But some aren't. Oh, a final thought: if I weren't afraid, I'd start sentences with conjunctions and end with prepositions. OK, I admit to doing that already.

Altered Dominos--Early Efforts

Thanks to my much beloved pal Zee, I've been experimenting with altered domino art. Here are some samples. I realize that this isn't the best photo in the world, but you get the idea. I love the two with the vintage photos of children with dogs. The one with the two pink hearts isn't as interesting. The one with multi hearts is simply stamped using dye ink, then colored with permanent marker, then set with a heat tool. The fairy is prettier in "real life." It's embossed using a glittery medium. So these are kinda basic, but it's fun to experiment with different techniques. Pigment ink, by the way, doesn't work, unless used with embossing powder. I'm planning to make these into magnets. But there really are many things one could do with altered dominos.

Thursday Thirteen: Songs I LOVE, Part Deux

1. "All I Want is You"--U2. "Stuck in a Moment" is another fav.

2. "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show"--Neil Diamond. As we all know, "there are two types of people in this world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don't." I also like "Sweet Caroline," of course and "Cracklin' Rosie."

3. "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues"--Elton John

4. "Such Great Heights"--Iron and Wine

5. "Beautiful"--James Blunt

6. "Ballad of Jack and Diane"--John Mellencamp

7. "The Sweater Song"--Weezer

8. "Here Comes Your Man"--Pixies. "Gigantic" and "La la Love You" are pretty good too.

9. "Mah na, mah na" as performed on The Muppets. I think the Muppets are grand.

10. In a similar vein: "Rainbow Connection"--performed by Kermit the Frog, of course.

11. "Streets of Bakersfield"--Dwight Yokam and Buck Owens.

12. "I Been Everywhere"--Johnny Cash

13. "One Week"--The Barenaked Ladies. OK, I have to admit that I think of the Barenaked Ladies as Canadian wannabe TMBG. But they're still lots of fun.